"No Kings" But Christ
- Hannah Miller King
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Celebrating the Century-Old Feast That Puts Presidents in Their Place
By Hannah Miller King

A new cry of protest has emerged in America. In the last year, millions have marched to insist we have “No Kings” in this country, criticizing Donald Trump’s consolidation of power, pattern of unilateral decision-making, and use of executive force. The protests themselves are a marker of democracy, as citizens safely organize to make their voices heard and demand greater governmental accountability. But they also raise important questions for Christians currently divided about the role of human authorities in relation to the kingship of Christ.
Some Christians, with a sincere desire to be faithful to Jesus' teachings, believe it would be best for America to have a Christian president officially steering the country in a Christian direction—even if some people don’t like it. (Whether Donald Trump is such a president is a separate discussion.) In response to a rally for “No Kings,” these believers might argue, “Actually, Christ is King! And we want to set up our government in his name.”
Other Christians, with the same level of sincerity, would argue that Christian faith is a personal and private experience and shouldn’t hold sway in the public square. In the first view, the lordship of Christ should be carried out by the state. In the second, the lordship of Christ is subjugated under the state.
This tension is not new. In medieval Europe, the church essentially governed kings and countries. For a thousand years, Christianity was known in the West as “Christendom,” a church-state superpower that dominated political and cultural life. The arrival of the Enlightenment in the late 17th century loosened the church’s grip on society, and the World Wars furthered widespread religious disillusionment. In Christendom’s place, secular nationalism rose to the fore. Most Western countries have been on a secular trajectory ever since, with a growing consensus that religion belongs in people’s private lives, not in public office.
In 1925, Pope Pius XI spoke into this changing political landscape by instituting a new annual feast for Christians around the world: the Feast of Christ the King. Designed to be celebrated at the end of the liturgical year (this year on November 23), this feast invites Christians to remember that regimes may rise or fall in the sweep of history, but Christ is King, and his kingdom alone will never end (Luke 1:33).
This celebration quickly became ecumenical as Anglicans, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, and other Protestant traditions adopted it into their church calendars. Only 100 years old this year, it is among the “youngest” liturgical feasts of the church, and its origin in the political tension of the last century is instructive for us. Proclaiming Christ’s kingship in the context of gathered worship demonstrates a church that stands not above the state or below it, but outside of it altogether. It honors the reign of one whose kingdom is not from this world.
In his encyclical letter introducing the Feast, Pope Pius describes the distinct and otherworldly nature of Jesus’ reign: “[Christ’s] kingdom is spiritual and is concerned with spiritual things…The gospels present this kingdom as one which men prepare to enter by penance, and cannot actually enter except by faith and by baptism.” For Christians in 2025, this means we shouldn’t conflate a human government with the Kingdom of God. Its boundaries are sacramental, not geographical, and its reign belongs to one person. We are currently awaiting his return.
While we wait, our call is not to recede into the shadows of public life. In fact, we are to engage the rulers of human governments prophetically, urging them to remember that they too will one day give an account to a higher authority. In Pope Pius’ words: “If princes and magistrates duly elected are filled with the persuasion that they rule, not by their own right, but by the mandate and in the place of the Divine King, they will exercise their authority piously and wisely, and they will make laws and administer them, having in view the common good and also the human dignity of their subjects.”
Christians bear witness to the Kingdom of God when we champion laws that reflect its character—when we promote justice, protect vulnerable members of society, and call the powerful to account. In America, this has looked like marching to end racial segregation, organizing to defend the unborn, and advocating for the needs of refugees, to name a few. As citizens of Christ’s kingdom, we are called to engage politically, but not under the banner of any particular man-made party or human person. We live, vote, pray, and act in allegiance to a king who, for now, remains invisible apart from his people.
However pleased or displeased we are with the current president, we are called to recognize his limits, and the limits of every human leader. We are also called to emphatically denounce false characterizations of Christ’s character or his kingdom, whether they come from Christians on the Right or on the Left. History is headed not toward any national or political superpower, but toward a kingdom comprised of every tribe, tongue, and nation gathered in joyful surrender to Jesus Christ (Rev. 7:9).
Until that day, we are to live prophetically as members of that kingdom here and now. This means our faith is public but not partisan. To presidents, dictators, and popular pundits, the gospel proclaims: there are no true kings but Christ.
Hannah Miller King is a priest in the Anglican Church in North America and the author of “Feasting on Hope: How God Sets a Table in the Wilderness.”